After much deliberation that ranged from wrestling with his own mind, instructing himself to get past insecurities, forget stupid, overarching memories, and weighing the pros and cons down to the very last second, Daryl finally came to the conclusion that…

He felt and looked downright idiotic.

When he was a kid, Halloween was a lot more fun. The ability to run around and collect candy with his older brother was something he cherished up until the day the very same brother told him that trick or treating was only for babies. They managed to steal the candy of other hopeful kids that hadn't had their spirits ripped out just yet when they weren't looking for a few years until Merle decided the entire holiday was for babies, too. He also used another word that their father frequently used.

Their costumes were never anything that cost above thirty dollars given their father's income (or severe lack of). One year, Merle wrapped a red blanket around Daryl's neck and called it a Superman costume. Daryl stopped protesting for a real costume when Merle suggested Daryl wear his underwear outside of his pants to make it more realistic. He had a feeling Merle would tell their dad about the complaints and Merle would get his way as he was the eldest of them.

Or their father would insist they stay home to stop their arguing and punish them for bothering him over something so trivial.

Daryl ignored the knocking at his door when October 31st rolled around because he didn't care to actually buy candy. He kept his lights off, but there were always three or four brave kids who tried to approach, at least two who would not take the hint that he would have to turn away. There would always be kids, though, so no one could spread the message that his house wasn't one to visit on Halloween.

And now, he stood in front of one of the only mirrors he owned and could not help but feel those insecurities he told himself to ignore rearing their ugly heads. He never cared what people thought about him, prided himself on being authentic and real in the face of adversity, but with Connie on his mind, he noticed the hairs that were out of place and how this was a low effort move in comparison to what she could probably pull.

"Why do you fucking care so much?" He muttered deep, low, and gravelly. While he never changed and remained true to himself, the actual thoughts and self-hatred somehow swam past the restricting line he set for others to keep from looking in. The fact that he was nervous did not help his judgment. It had been a long time since someone invited him to a party.

Regardless, he stepped away from the glass and made his way to the outside. In preparation, he worked hard to get his bike fixed up. The illusion had to be kept in tact and he was sure Connie would appreciate it since he was doing the bare minimum wearing his old vest. He couldn't let her be eons ahead of him.

They had to meet at Kelly's (Connie's sister, he remembered her name) since Connie was going to be helping set things in place. Daryl offered to help, but Connie said they had it figured out and that all he had to do was show up and get ready for a good time. It wasn't exactly too comforting of a phrase since he didn't know how much he would enjoy it, but he simply agreed and saved the address to his phone.

In the end, he turned down Lydia's offer to have impromptu dance lessons. Quite frankly, he found it weird that a teenager was so invested in the friendship of two adults so he was quick to draw that boundary. Besides, as much as he liked the kid, her and Henry's incessant need to be around each other was driving him insane. She stayed on top of her work, too, so he couldn't tell Henry to get lost just because of his growing dislike.

At least, not unless he wanted Lydia to be upset with him.

She seemed happy, so sacrificing his own sanity was something he could get over in time. He was really hoping so, anyway.

When his phone buzzed, he lifted it to see a text there from Connie. Without realizing, he smiled.

The guests are arriving earlier than we thought. If you want to come by already, you can. Good thing we stocked on chips.

Already walking over to his bike, he typed back a message.

Right, who knows what might happen if you run out.

Just as he swung his leg over and prepared to take off, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. That was fast.

Don't joke like that. The world could quite literally end.

Parking at the curb, he stood behind someone's gray Honda Insight and headed over to the door. Already, it surpassed his own home in size, but it also wasn't a mansion. It was a simple two-story, a washed out color most likely recommended from a boring realtor in case it needed to be resold later down the line. His house wasn't in perfect condition, but he knew it would be bought because of its "coziness" and place away from too many people. That is, if he ever wanted to sell it.

A desire to move had not come up, but he was saving. He made good money with his shop, but he didn't know what he was saving for in the end. Probably retirement since one day he would have to face the music that he was too old to be doing the heavy lifting. It's not a future he tried looking towards.

He couldn't work in his shop forever, but nothing stopped him from pretending he could.

He knocked on the door and then reached for his phone to text Connie that he had arrived. Just as he went to type, the door came open to reveal a man with semi curly hair tucked under a straw hat. Daryl assumed he was a cowboy or something of that nature.

"Hey, I'm here for—"

"Connie, right?"

Did she tell this guy that she was waiting for some redneck with long hair or…

"She's also a biker, and you're one so I'm pretty sure you're Daryl. Come on in," he said and stepped into the house with the door open.

Daryl followed suit, tucking his phone back into his pants in the process. He shut the door behind him, the low orange lighting drawing attention to the fake spiders hanging on the walls. His vision blurred as he walked further, eyeing the smoke machine by the table full of snacks. The music wasn't too loud like it was at the dance, but the cowboy was talking loud anyway.

"I'm Luke. I'm glad you're here. We had a run in with the last guy from Connie's work so I'm really hoping you're not a dick," he continued, gesturing towards a woman in similar attire who was waiting by the table.

"I don't work with Connie," Daryl responded, a tad annoyed that Ryker had been there before just like Lydia said.

"No? Huh, did she meet you on Tinder or something?" Before Daryl could ask what the fuck a tinder was, the cowgirl at the table stepped up and stuck her hand out in front of him.

Daryl wearily took it, shaking it as he looked at her in confusion.

"I'm Jules, Luke's girlfriend. Sorry, he's a little excited. Well, I guess I am, too. It's not every day you get to meet Connie's boyfriend," she mused.

Blinking profusely, Daryl slipped his hand away from Jules and tilted his head to repeat her words in his mind. Did Connie go around saying that he was her boyfriend? It was highly unlikely and he was positive she wouldn't do such a thing, but how could he know anything about these people he just met. For all he knew, they were just nosy friends.

"We're just friends," he said, positive to put to rest whatever had been going on.

"See, I told you," came a voice from the side of the three of them. Daryl saw another woman with tattoos approaching, her hair visibly long and light tied up. He could tell she was guarded through her suit and tie (he had no idea what she was, failing to grasp the movie reference). He had seen the same hardened exterior when he looked in the mirror.

"Connie wouldn't just date someone out of the blue," she went on, as if she were confirming a conversation they all had before. It seemed to be a tender topic since Luke huffed out a breath and then took a sip from his cup. Jules still seemed amused.

"Magna, by the way," she said, head moving to one side towards what looked like a hall entrance to another room, "Connie's in the kitchen."

The last thing Daryl wanted to do was continue standing there to be asked more questions, opting to move away and nod his head. He moved to where Magna gestured and entered the equally spooky kitchen without a second thought. He was already more than uncomfortable with the circumstances, spotting Connie standing at the counter pouring smoky liquid into two cups. They must've used dry ice for the aesthetic.

Not wanting to scare her, he remained a few feet away and waited for her to turn around. When she did, her face lit up, her hands occupied with two cups. She immediately went to him and handed him one of the cups. He was able to fully appreciate her costume now.

At the store, he thought it was the best one, but he saw the modifications she made from the distressed pants to the tears in her top. The bandana sitting to hold her curls was a nice touch, too, and just as he thought before, she had put his own outfit to shame.

Taking out her notepad, she got to writing and raised it for him to read.

I thought you weren't going to wear it! You look good.

He made a pfft noise at her words, eyes rolled for good measure to display how he disagreed with her statement. It earned him a gentle slap to the chest, one that was more for her displeasure than it was meant to hurt. He caught himself grinning again despite telling himself to keep it cool.

"Whatever," he uttered, staring at the cup in his hand to try and decipher what rested underneath the rising smoke. "You look better," he managed, although timorous.

Their conversation could not be carried further because of how another woman in a dark cloak and a button-up interrupted and tapped Connie on the shoulder. Daryl watched her sign to Connie, a language he was unable to understand. Usually, Lydia spoke and Connie signed and he was able to get context clues from whatever Lydia said. This time, he was more out of the loop.

It was fine, though. He knew it was easier for Connie to sign than it was to write. Or, more natural. Writing took time. He suddenly felt off thinking about how he should've been the one to accommodate her and not the other way around.

"Sorry, I'm Kelly," she said. Connie's sister. Right.

"Daryl," he reaffirmed, anything for them to continue talking and that he wasn't in the way.

"I know, I was just asking Connie where she put the other plates. Sometimes throwing a party can be so stressful," she joked and then smiled. Kelly maneuvered around to a cabinet and brought out extra plates, carting out of the kitchen to resume being a host, "have fun, nice to meet you."

Connie was writing on her notepad when Daryl looked back to her, her next passage being: I need to take these drinks out. Follow me?

"Alright, lead the way." Connie took the cup from his hand and the two of them went back into the living room to deliver the drinks. His nerves had eased being around her, but he could feel them returning as they moved to the people.

He was just hoping there wouldn't be too many people coming around since he didn't do well when he was overwhelmed.

Leaning against the house, Daryl took a long inhale of his cigarette. When stress heightened, he found himself craving nicotine more than usual. It didn't just happen out of nowhere and he stood around as much as he could before he needed a break from socializing.

Connie seemed to be having fun, chatting with some people using sign and others on her notepad. He remembered a few other names, Yumiko (the tall one with a bobbed wig and a blood stain on her nose) and Bernie (he actually did come as a zombie, it was a good call on Daryl's part) in particular, who had been pleasant. They didn't ask personal questions unlike Magna and Luke. He was positive Luke was asking because of a childlike curiosity whereas Magna was asking because she was doing a goddamn background check. If they were anything alike as Daryl surmised, she had no room to get on his case for anything.

He kept his answers short and after an hour in, he separated from Connie to get punch. She was too enveloped in conversation and he didn't want to interrupt. When he reached the kitchen, Magna cornered him and asked him the same questions, to which he gave the same answers. It was the final questions that made him step outside.

"So, where's your brother?" She asked, a different query than before. He had told her he had a sibling, a brother when she asked him to be specific.

"What does it matter?" Came his response, Magna's eyebrows raising in surprise. Daryl had been giving short answers that were straight to the point so she was probably wondering why he chose to deflect instead.

"Guys who don't have family around are sketchy. As much as we play twenty questions, you still keep sounding like a stranger." She shrugged her shoulders and leaned into the counter.

"Maybe 'cause I am one," he said, his tone more agitated than it was before. She seemed to have caught it.

"Why are you getting so defensive? I just asked where your brother was."

"I don't appreciate the assumptions," he answered.

"I haven't made a real assumption yet. If you ask me, it sounds like you're the type of guy who drives people away. No one just makes friends after being alone for so long. So, am I right or not?"

Her question was left hanging in the air. He knew she wasn't finished talking yet because she took another drink of her cup.

"Did you drive your brother away?" Magna asked, the real intention coming through.

Daryl understood the questions were probably because Magna was making sure Connie was playing it safe, not messing around with just anybody who could hurt her. They were just friends, but he comprehended how people cared for her and were looking out for her well being. Magna's motive wasn't much different than Daryl's motive behind warning Henry to treat Lydia well.

Except, he didn't go as far to try and psychoanalyze the kid to his face. She was crossing the line to see if he would get mad, to see his true colors appear. It was a test, and as much as it stung to think about Merle, Daryl was unflinching. He could handle the preconceived notions as he dealt with those his entire life, but not the flashes of his memories. He kept his expression stoic as he placed his cup onto the counter.

"Nah, we lost touch, excuse me" he let out, not giving her the satisfaction of sticking around any longer. He walked from there and she moved to let him get through.

She might have had more questions on her tongue, but Daryl knew she wouldn't ask again with others around.

But when Daryl got back to the small crowd, he ended up continuing his gait without stopping. He went outside, lit a cigarette, and just pushed out the thoughts and memories that flooded his mind. It was easy since he had done it a million times before, watching as kids went to other houses and asked the dreaded "trick or treat."

He must've dissociated for too long because he didn't notice Connie coming up towards him. Her hand found his arm and he turned to meet her gaze, leaning from the house to put out his cigarette under his boot.

How long have you been out here?

"Not long. I needed some air. Your friend Magna is quite the… conversationalist." He said, already easing more than he did when he lit his cigarette.

Connie shook her head, a hand coming up to her forehead. She seemed embarrassed, a knowing look forming on her features. She wrote on a new page to him, Daryl having to strain his eyes because the porchlight was all they had.

I'm sorry. I told them you were fine. She gets protective.

"Stop, ain't no one's fault. She's just lookin' out for ya'. I think she's tryna' make sure I'm not some axe murderer or somethin'."

Daryl earned himself a laugh, Connie's smile coming through the bleak of her once embarrassed face. It was nice to cause that.

Are you? Connie asked on her pad, Daryl shrugging in response.

"Guess you'll have to find out."

There was a pause. Connie looked at Daryl and he looked at her, the above fluorescence letting it be known that her freckles on her nose were peeking through her makeup. Connie could see his scar better from there and she wondered where he got it from, but she wouldn't ask until they were in a safe space together away from children running around in costumes and friends nearby who were also running around (drunk) in costumes.

She didn't know if that opportunity would ever present itself, but there were more important things than digging into someone's past. She very much liked Daryl for who he currently was.

I could talk to her if you want. There are no excuses.

"It's not a big deal, honest. You don't have to."

Another beat passed, but instead of awkwardly staring at each other again, Daryl and Connie looked to the street. He tried to pay attention to the cars driving around, another way to calm his anxiety by counting and breathing evenly. Connie liked just standing there with him in silence, eventually finding his bike parked near Yumiko's car.

It was right when Daryl gave up on counting and looked to see her, her gaze followed. He forgot to tell her he brought his bike earlier. She had said before that she wanted to see it and they even had the proper ensemble.

"Do you, uh, want to go for a ride?"

Was that too forward? He planned on giving her a small tour of it at most, but the words came out before his head told him not to say anything. He attempted to avoid his doubts and focus on that sliver of hope that she wanted to get away for a bit just as he did. It was barely there because of how she seemed to be enjoying herself.

For Connie, the question caught her off guard as his question the other day did. She could've gone inside with him into his home, but her nerves got the best of her. It was unlike her as things hardly managed to shake her, but her reply to him came from a place unsure of herself. It didn't mean she didn't care for Daryl, quite the contrary, it meant she cared about Daryl more than she initially thought.

That was a scary place to be. One where you wanted to see a person more and more, throwing caution to the wind and simply reveling in the experience. Connie selflessly set aside that self-care and made less time to spend with friends in order to focus on work. Sometimes she got too caught up, forgot her responsibilities because of how much Daryl intrigued her. Although she had been irritated with Lydia at first in how she set this up, Connie couldn't help but look forward to spending time with him.

After years of studying people, observing them to their closest traits, she knew, however, how Daryl didn't trust easily. She had seen others who were the same, trapping themselves away from others to avoid the pain that trust might bring along. For the short time that they knew each other, Daryl seemed to trust her. That was all she really needed in this instance.

And what the hell, she set this day for fun and fun only so work could be answered on Monday.

Make sure to keep it steady. I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not a real biker.

"Could've fooled me," he said, visibly content as opposed to the nervousness in his stature moments before. He retrieved his keys from his pocket from there and walked to the bike.

When he sat onto it and saw that Connie was already moving to seat herself behind him, he raised a hand to stop her.

"If you want me to stop, let me know," he said, and when she nodded with a soft grin, he let her continue.

Connie climbed onto the back of the bike gradually, the immediate increase of warmth being poignant because of the cold October air surrounding her arms. Daryl acted as a personal fire, and in turn, Connie leaned closer into him. This had certainly been a drastic change as the last time they were even as close as this was when she leaned over his console to beat him at paying for coffee.

Her arms rested on his abdomen and their thighs were pressed firmly together, her chest against his broad back. Regardless of their mixed heat, Connie felt the rising goosebumps littering across her skin and since she was focused on that, she failed to notice the same ghosting Daryl's arms. Neither were directly from the chilled air.

Tapping his boot with hers, Daryl signaled the start, the ignition ignited with his key and the kickstand maneuvered out of the way. In seconds, they were on the road. The vibrating machine underneath Connie had her hold tightening on Daryl in surprise, but she found herself smiling as she watched the passing houses of her sister's neighborhood.

It was smooth going down the length of the street, even in how he turned onto another. Despite the array of kids going from place to place, he was cautious of them and able to find a spot where they didn't have to worry about people and just the revving of the engine.

The wind sifted through her hair, a shiver highlighting her quickening breath with her increasing adrenaline. Her hold loosened some as she felt more secure in Daryl's presence, mouth slightly dropping in awe of the feeling and passing lights at either side of them. In a way, she felt free. The responsibilities she would have to answer to soon were fleeing from her head, relaxed dispute the roaring beneath her and the hardened exterior surrounding Daryl at all times.

As much as Connie was finding this comforting, Daryl made good on his promise and kept the bike steady. He couldn't know how she was feeling because of their positioning and the lack of verbal confirmation so all he could do was drive to the best of his abilities with the moon to guide him.

From just her hold alone, he realized that she became used to the sensation so that was at least a good sign. He was also slightly stiff because of how aware he was of her close proximity, but he tried to enjoy himself the very same. A ride on his bike used to be able to calm him in the worst situations and this time was no different.

Actually, in a way, he found himself having a better time despite a downside in their communication, despite having taken a million rides on his own in the past. It was an odd conclusion to come to.

When they came to a stop sign away from other cars, Daryl turned towards Connie to check on her. He didn't expect to see her beaming at him, teeth on full display in her joy.

"Havin' a good time?" He asked, her contagious smile transferring to his mouth. Relief filled him at the sight, the answers he was wondering as they drove being received.

Connie enthusiastically nodded her head and with renewed confidence, Daryl drove again past the stop sign and onto a new block.

Arriving back at the house, Daryl and Connie hopped off of the motorcycle and nudged each other as they walked back up the driveway.

"Next time you're ridin' up front. Can't believe you put so many leaves in my hair," he huffed out, yanking out an orange leaf from his mane in the process. The silent laughter that came from Connie did not go unnoticed.

I have no idea what you're talking about, she wrote, earning another dramatic huff that had her glowing all the same.

Their banter was cut short whenever Kelly came out of the house, a worried look plastered on her features. She ran upon seeing Connie, signing frantically and then handing her off a phone. Daryl didn't know she had left it behind, trying to gather clues as to what they might be saying.

Usually, he would've tried to look off and find something else to do with himself, but the delight that was resting on Connie's expression disappeared as she saw what Kelly had to say. He had to keep his distance to not look like he was snooping when she turned her phone on and read its contents.

Turning to Daryl, she pointed to her phone, tucked it away, and then wrote something fast.

I have to check on something. I will be back as soon as I can.

Before Daryl had a chance to say anything in response, he watched as Connie took keys from Kelly and then went off to her car. It was quite a lot to take in at once, a breath coming off him when he saw that he was standing alone with Kelly.

Once Connie was actually gone, he looked at Kelly and was about to ask if everything was okay when she sighed out. It was a deep and unsecure thing.

"Her phone kept going off. I got to it and saw one of her students was having an emergency, but I didn't know where she ran off," she began to explain.

"I figured she was with you, so I called but I never got an answer."

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows at the revelation, his phone taken from his pocket to see. Just as Kelly said, he had missed calls from Connie's phone. They were too preoccupied on the bike to notice it had gone off. In all fairness, it was difficult to hear anything above the motor let alone feel the vibration.

"Sorry, we went out for a ride," he tried. Kelly waved it off, though. It didn't make him feel any less shitty.

"It's fine. I just panicked for a good fifteen minutes," she said, a poor attempt at a joke given the seriousness of the situation. Daryl didn't laugh, but he nodded his head as an awkward sign of both his sorry and need to keep away from prying.

As much as he wanted to know that things would be okay with Connie and her student (if Connie cared, then it was important) he didn't want to insert himself in a place that wasn't his business.

Kelly seemed to pick up on it since she moved her head towards her house and made a motion for him to follow. "Come on, let's get something to drink."

Daryl went inside behind Kelly and thankfully slipped past the guests undetected. That or the majority was too drunk to care if anyone had come in or out.

In the kitchen, Kelly set down two drinks on the table and sat down. It prompted Daryl to follow her lead, staring at the punch for a split second too long.

"It doesn't have any alcohol. I didn't want to assume anything," she said.

He took a drink and the two sat in silence. He could feel her eyes on him just as he found Connie doing from time to time. Neither of them probably meant to stare, but he could tell they had a similarity in using their other senses to read people. He did so himself when necessary since some people talked too damn much for their own good.

"Do you drink? Alcohol, I mean," she asked. Daryl must've glared on accident or something because she shook her head back and forth.

"I'm not trying to hassle you down like Magna or Luke, just asking a genuine question. I could pour you a shot if you want," she continued.

Given how he saw that 'genuinity' in her expression, he sat back into his chair and answered, "No. I used to. I got one too many bad habits anyway."

Nodding, Kelly looked into her cup and didn't say anything. Daryl had a feeling she was just trying to keep him occupied until Connie returned like a good sister, but the two of them were strangers to each other. He didn't even know Connie had a sister until the details of the party were explained to him.

He didn't even have to know. Connie barely knew of his brother. Magna probably knew more just because of how she kept picking at him before they took off. Something about that fact irritated him.

"Connie's talked to me about you, you know. You didn't have to volunteer for her school thing or even come here today, but you did," she declared. Kelly said it as an observation, as if she was trying to put something together.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he waited for her to come to the point she was laying out. Except, she seemed as lost as he was. Well, partially.

"I appreciate that you've been there for her and I'm pretty sure she appreciates it, too. I always tell her that she needs to slow down, but it feels like I'm talking to a wall sometimes," she went on, a smile gracing her lips in fondness. He could see how much Kelly cared for Connie and it was real. Unfortunately, he never exactly had that for himself.

For the longest time, he thought he did.

"Connie really likes being around you. I've seen that she's been happier, like she got a new spark or something."

As simple as her sentences were, it was a shit ton of information to take in. From what he gathered, he saw that Connie liked to spend time with him and he with her, but he didn't want to think about the implications and technicalities. This is what friends were supposed to be, right? Real friends.

His past experience saw how manipulative people could be, how they could use him for their own gain. At times, Daryl did the dirty work because it was expected of him, followed along with what his brother said because family was supposed to be as loyal as possible. He didn't question these rather toxic notions because he didn't know any other way. Until he did, that is.

"We're just friends," he said, repeated for the second time that night. He had to say it out loud even if Kelly already knew that. It was for his own sake.

"Yeah, I get it. What I said still stands. I know my sister and she can be quite the workaholic. She always wants to help, always wants to fix things, but she forgets about herself a lot. Isn't that weird?"

"Hmm?"

"How some people could believe that everyone deserves happiness and self-love even if that's at the expense of their own well being. I have always admired her for it, but at some point, you need to look after your own wants."

Again, it was a lot to take in, more than he bargained for. Kelly obviously wanted the best for Connie just as Connie most likely wanted the best for her. Daryl could see that the care was a two way street, running evenly back and forth.

Kelly took a drink and then rested it back on the table. After that, she was surely in deep thought. Her words were heavy and they left much room for further contemplation. Daryl couldn't leave this conversation too one-sided, though.

"I don't know if everyone deserves that kind of stuff, I've met more shitty people in this lifetime than not," he said, earning Kelly's attention in the process. She seemed not to expect a response from him since she tilted her head in question.

"Some people out there get what they deserve and some don't, the good and the bad. It fuckin' sucks, but it is what it is," he continued only to see Kelly waiting to see where he was going with it. His take wasn't exactly the most optimistic, but it was realistic in his eyes.

"But, Connie… Connie deserves better. As shit as the world is, she does deserve that stuff you were talkin' about. Maybe even more."

The two sat in silence for a third time, but instead of awkward, it was comfortable. From the simplicity of their conversation, they gathered enough about each other to know where the other stood. It was honest and bold and Kelly felt secure in being there with him to keep him company in the meantime.

"Thank you," was the last thing she said to him before they finished their drinks and anticipated Connie's return.

Much of the guests left when Connie finally got back. It was late and so Kelly started calling ubers for the friends who didn't want to stay the night. She managed to get Yumiko and Magna to stay, but Bernie, Luke, and Jules took off. Jules was sober so she insisted it would all be okay.

Daryl chose a spot on the couch as Kelly got blankets out for Magna and Yumiko. They disappeared up the stairs as he checked his phone. He kept doing so to see if he got a message from Connie, but he didn't receive anything telling him that she would be over soon.

When he heard a knock on the door, he expected to see more kids outside asking for late candy, but he saw her instead. She apologetically smiled and the two went back to the couch he was previously at.

I'm sorry, my phone died. I'm glad you're still here.

"It's nothin'. Is everythin' okay?"

Yeah, everything is fine. I got it under control.

Eyeing her suspiciously, he slowly nodded his head to divert away from the subject. He wondered if she would've told him if things went awry, if it had been a total shit show. She seemed the type to hold severe weight on her shoulders just as he found himself doing and this is what he believed strongly, especially after his talk with Kelly.

But Connie looked away from his quizzical expression. He didn't know if this was because of how she was trying to avoid his gaze or if she had truly gotten over whatever occurred in the past hour. As he tried to decipher the reason, he saw her turn back towards him with a gentle movement of her head.

His eyes landed in the direction she implicitly pointed at and saw the lone speakers that had been booming music all night long. Kelly shut them off before she followed Magna and Yumiko up the stairs to get their stay set up.

"They're not on," he sheepishly said. It felt weird to say it, but he wanted to inform her in case she didn't know. Sound was nothing he referred to around her because he never needed to, but in this instance, he had to.

I know. I can't feel it.

He felt more lost than before, trying to look at the speakers again for answers. He only looked back at Connie because he heard the fluttering of the pages in her notepad. When she found the one she was searching for, Daryl read it and immediately recognized its contents.]

Do you want to dance? returned almost under the same circumstances. Except, its ink had been smudged from resting underneath the other pages. She used her notepad quite a bit for obvious reasons, but it still felt fresh regardless. This wasn't like the school dance.

They had gotten to know each other a bit more than they previously did. They knew each other's coffee orders, their lame go to jokes, how a bike ride felt together. It hadn't even been that long ago and they managed to explore new things about each other whether it was intentional or not.

"Might step on your toes," he said, not able to reject her offer as he did the last time.

His head tilted upwards as she stood up from the couch, eyes following the length of her body. She wrote something new, You won't, and then set her notepad down on the cushion beside him to reach her hand towards him.

Again, he had been in this predicament before at the football game. He chose to take her hand and winded up having a good time (not counting Ryker's bullshit). So, as doubts told him that he would in fact be stepping on her feet or send her careening to the floor somehow, he ignored and closed his hand around hers.

Daryl and Connie situated to the middle of the living room floor. Unaware of where to put his hands, he let them go limp enough for Connie to guide him. One hand was placed at her mid-back, the other grasping hers. Her hold was gentle as all of her actions with him were, never pushing or forcing, but decisive and assisting.

She took one step to close a majority of the distance between them. Their bike ride across a few blocks had the both of them more than close, but this time they had nowhere to look but each other's faces.

The orange lights barely showed him the freckles like the outside did, but he could see the depth of her eyes and just how long her eyelashes were. In this stance, he towered over her and given how they were supposed to be dancing, he felt like a brute in comparison.

Almost as if she knew how to silence his thoughts, the corners of her lips curved upwards and she led them into their first swaying. His feet felt like concrete on the ground, but he tried to move along with her and find the rhythm she set. Daryl's clumsy movements had not sent her downward, but he tried to look to the side to watch his feet.

He was mainly focusing on not falling or stumbling over her frame, freezing slightly when he felt her hand slip from his. His gaze returned to her features, waiting for her to show him what he did wrong, but then her hands cupped his cheeks. His eyes fell on hers once more, her head nodding to confirm that that's where he was supposed to be looking.

Then, her arms went loosely around the back of his neck. His hands naturally fell to the small of her back, his limbs feeling as if she placed ants in his bloodstream somehow. They were… pleasant nerves, not at all unwelcomed.

Despite how the speakers were off, Daryl fell into a soundless space with Connie where he couldn't even hear the traffic outside. He kept sight on her rich eyes, how her smile had softened to almost a flat line as she kept her focus on him and him only. It was overwhelming, but almost addictive, as if he couldn't get enough.

"Connie," he said, whispered actually without thinking. Something was at the tip of his tongue, something about to unravel.

She looked like she wanted to do something, sign something, let him know what was probably swarming through her mind like it was through his.

The two broke from their spell when Kelly was seen through their peripheral vision coming down the stairs. They slowly came apart from each other, Connie walking over to hug her sister. It was probably to ease some of her worries.

Daryl watched them sign to each other, reality slapping him in the face of where he was. It had definitely gone somewhere he was unfamiliar with. Dancing with Connie brought about new thoughts, new emotions he wasn't sure he was capable of. He had a fuck ton of questions circling his head.

Kelly threw him a look before she went back up the stairs, Connie coming back to him when he decided he had overstayed.

"I think it's time for me to get goin'. I gotta' open up the shop early tomorrow," he said, much to Connie's dismay. He tried ignoring the disheartened look flashing for a moment on her features, it quickly replaced by understanding.

Grabbing her notepad, she wrote something and then showed him: Okay, I'll walk you out.

He didn't want to protest anything, walking with her to the door and then to the curb where his bike was waiting. Thankfully, it wasn't surrounded by cars like before, so he mounted it and sat back to say his goodbye.

"I had a good time. You and your sister know how to throw a party," he went on, grabbing one of the bike handles for purchase. Something in him wanted to stay longer, but he fought that impulse and waited for her to write.

You're welcome any time. Text me when you get back, alright? I promise I'll charge my phone.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he replied. Connie gave him her best I'm serious face and he felt himself producing that half smile he couldn't refrain from when he was around her. He was positive he should stop trying.

"Goodnight, Connie," he said. Instead of producing the same response on her notepad, she walked forward and he could feel himself wondering what exactly she had planned.

Without preamble, her lips touched his cheek and he felt as if he was boiling alive. His nerves were on end, heart hammering in his ribcage as he looked at her in disbelief. She didn't look disgusted, so that was a plus.

Her gentle expression eased his nerves, zero regret traced over her features. She then waved goodbye, backing up to go back into the house.

He waved back, still dumbfounded as he took off back to his place. His mind was racing as he did, having to slow down a few times where he went over the speed limit. Those nerves from before had come back with a vengeance and he had realized something, the very thing that he had been going crazy over for a while already.

Daryl knew something was up with him, not able to put a label on his feelings because he wasn't sure if he experienced them before, at least not like this. He kept pushing down this struggle when the answer had been staring at him, unwavering as he opted to keep himself from staring back. It looked him between the eyes as he looked right past it.

As he reached his home, he parked his bike in the back and unlocked his door with a crucial, almost suffocating certainty: Daryl liked Connie, but… not as a friend. And… he had wanted to kiss her when they were dancing, maybe even before that. And he had wanted to be with her until dawn, dance like they were alone on earth even if he sucked at it.

Well, aren't you just fucked, little brother, Merle's voice resounded throughout his brain, a memorized tone that Daryl did not want or need to hear at this revelation. But, mind-Merle was right. He was fucked.